Five Times James Said No, One Time He Said Yes
by darlingmess
Summary: A series of short stories revolving around James and Logan.


Standard Disclaimers Apply

Five Times James Said No, One Time He Said Yes

**.1**

James doesn't usually demand things, not really. He normally asks politely, then whinges until he gets. So he expects to do the same today. But it doesn't quite happen like that. He and Logan are sitting in the living room of the shared apartment; they're lounging on the sofa, sprawled together. James with his back to the arm rest, legs drawn up Logan nestled between them, his back pressing to James' front. He has a medical journal resting on his drawn up knees; he's fingering through an article.

It's early around twelve in the afternoon, the bright sun filters through the intermediate cracks in the blinds. It dyes both Logan and James a pale yellow where the rays touch along their bare toes, their calves and the beginnings of the knees.

James drops his head to Logan's nape, smiling slightly when Logan murmurs in mock annoyance, it's just for show. So it placate him, James presses firm lips to the skin at Logan's nape, he can feel his shudder, the one he tries to play off as a cough.

The TV's on, programmes interspersed with a multitude of adverts; some funny; others strange; most pointless, James just rolls his eyes. Then he sees one that catches his eye. Some glamorous Hollywood director is showing off his new movie. James isn't sure what the film's about. Just that he wants to see it; now.

So he drapes his arms about Logan's chest, pinning him. He half expects Logan to struggle out of his embrace. James is secretly pleased when he doesn't, when Logan just seems to accept it, with a sharp intake of breath, before relenting and relaxing. Growing bolder he skates his hands down to the hem of Logan's t-shirt. He runs the tips of his fingers along the warm skin of Logan's stomach, smiling slightly when he shivers. James wonders about when he should ask, now or never.

"You want to go watch a film?" The words are soft like he doesn't want to break this comforting near quiet.

"Sure," is Logan's reply. He tilts he head back into the crook of James neck, and blinks heavy brown eyes up at him, James smiles. Then grins when Logan frowns lightly at the odd tint to his otherwise sweet smirk.

The movie theatre is dark, there are small round lights along the wide walkways but that is still not much help. James could see more with his eyes closed, he would try but he'd rather not make a fool of himself. To his right Logan is shuffling between the rows, trying not to trip over the alarming amount of pre teens, children, parents and grandparents, and paedophiles. When seated Logan turns to him, smiles and settles down. It's about twelve minutes into the film, when Logan looks increasingly worried. James doesn't want to smile like the smug bastard he is, but he does anyway.

Logan leans in, and tilts his head up. He whispers, "Why? Why would you do this to me?"

James just turns his head away and hums, jolly and low. He can feel Logan glaring, he tries and fails to cover a smirk. He doesn't know if he's surprised or not that Logan is gathering up his things. When Logan does stand James sighs. Rolling his eyes James grips Logan's wrist, yanking him roughly. Logan stumbles into James' lap.

He sits there dazed for a while. James wraps his arms about Logan, pointedly ignoring the hushed whispers, and cat calls. The cat calls he hopes aren't from the preteens, but it makes him shiver to think the paedophiles are staring or jerking off. He doesn't dwell on it.

In his lap Logan yelps, jumping up. James sniggers under his breath at Logan's blush, barely visible in the darkness.

Regaining some sense Logan hisses, "I'm leaving, and it's _not _funny." He gasps when James runs a hand up the inside of his open thigh.

"No, you're staying. Sit down."

"No," Logan sits down anyway. "And would you stop that, people are going to think we're gay." He pauses briefly, "And that we have really erotic sex."

James raises an eyebrow at him, affecting his best 'bitch please' look. Logan blushes vermillion. He mumbles, "Well no one needs to know."

**.2**

"You're a massive douche."

Logan just looks outrageously smug, James wants to hit him. Or kiss him; shag him senseless, it's hard to tell. This smug bastard routine is new and oddly arousing. James shakes himself, he's meant to be royally pissed.

"You really are an asshole."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Seriously Logan, you're asking for a slap."

"That the best you've got? I'm a hockey player, James, that doesn't scare me."

At that James growls low in his throat, his hands itch, ringing them around Logan's neck seems like a good idea.

"No, that's not the best I've got, you oversized twat. And fuck you."

"Not a chance." Logan raises an eyebrow. "Twat? What the fuck is that meant to be?"

James doesn't know if he should be surprised or not at Logan's sexual reference, he supposes he is.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

**.3**

When James walks into his room, it's dark, the blinds are closed and the lights are off, but there's a faint light from the cracks in the blinds. He closes the door, walking further into the room, he wants to turn on the light but he stops mid way, the room smells different.

The difference in smell isn't bad just strange and oddly familiar. Shaking his head James turns on the light. He drops his sunglasses to the faux wood desk a foot away from the door. He hears a rustling and looks up. He doesn't know if he's imagining this or not.

It's Logan, but not. He's sitting on James' rotating chair in front of his bookshelf, at the opposite wall. He's naked save for a paisley patterned banana hammock. He has one elbow on the arm rest, hand fisted under his chin, and the other resting dangerously near his crotch. James doesn't think his jaw could drop any lower, or that his mouth could not be moist.

"Hi" Logan's voice is husky, low and smooth. It makes James' skin tingle deliciously. He stands there, just looking. Finally his brain catches up with his eyes.

"No, fucking way." James doesn't know whether or not he has imagined this. The stress from rehearsals and the resulting lack of sex does strange things to him. The worst part is he keeps smacking his lips like he's mentally inept. But he can't seem to do anything else, and Logan isn't moving, just sitting there and looking at James with a wolfish glint in his eyes.

"You –fortheloveof..."

It seems Logan picked up on this when he says -still husky and smooth- "You just going to stand there? Or are you going to come sit with me?" Funny, it doesn't sound like a question. And James doesn't mind that it's not.

So he sits, somewhat awkwardly, he doesn't want to crush Logan's thingy, so he sits on the tips of Logan's knees, he feels silly that his face is flushed, he's seen Logan is less, much less. He chuckles softly, turning in Logan's lap, still mindful of Logan's "goods". Placing his hands on Logan's cheeks, he pulls in for a kiss that's all teeth and tongue, shared breath and harsh pants.

Pulling back briefly, before smashing their lips back together, he says, "You going to help me out of these jeans or what?"

**.4**

James awakens to dampened sunlight and a warm weight at his side. He blinks blearily rubbing the sand out of his eyes with the tips of three fingers. He rolls over, onto his back. He turns his head opening his eyes fully, he absently tugs the covers higher, tucking it under his chin.

He stares idly into the middle distance. Barely noticing when an arm wraps about his waist. He barely hears the soft smack of lips or the light sigh which comes with it. He doesn't notice anything until something or someone turns to cover him completely, bare chests flush together and warm legs with cold feet entangle. It's the feet which wake him from his 'barely there' stupor.

Now he looks, finally seeing what is in front of him. Logan with his dark hair messy and mused and static-y with spikes any which way. At this, James smiles, before a snore, heavy with morning breath, drags his smile into a fully fledged grin.

His nose only slightly wrinkles at the smell.

After dragging his eyes away from Logan's normally harsh and clever mouth James looks over to his nose, forehead and finally his eyes. The ones hidden behind eyelids and eyelashes James is secretly jealous of. He drapes his arms around Logan's shoulders, drawing the pads of his fingers over the smooth and muscled expanse of his back.

James doesn't normally get to watch Logan sleep, for he's normally in the shower or wandering around in his pyjamas by the time James wakes, groggy and irritable. So, really, it's times like these that James relishes, the moments he gets to watch Logan in all his snarky glory sleep. Peaceful and pleasant.

Although, he doesn't know whether he likes it best this way or the other; when Logan is still in bed a warm weight equipped with wandering hands and minty mouth. All things considered it is a terribly difficult choice. Running feather light fingers over Logan's lips he decides to make the most of it.

James groans at the feel of Logan shifting roughly, unwittingly dragging his bare crotch against James'. He does it again, and it's quite the struggle for James not to grind up into it. He resists, mostly because it would be wrong, quick and dirty and wonderful. But mostly it would be wrong.

It's around ten in the morning, and it is now that Logan stirs, yawns and wriggles around as is his custom. So when the yawn Logan gives puffs up against James' collar and peck he allows the mild tide of arousal to roll through him. It's now Logan makes to get up he rests his forearms on James' chest, James doesn't seem to mind the sting, although he does mind when Logan starts to drag away causing the covers to slide away, and bunch at their hips. Logan groans and arches his back a bit; he releases the position when his back cracks and pops. The sound loud and ringing in the air.

"Morning" there's the breath again. Logan pulls away, making to get up.

"No. You're staying right where you are." Comes James' reply, he swallows his smile at Logan's drowsy raised eyebrow. Tugging Logan to his chest once more James amends, "Morning."

**.5**

It's late in the evening, all the lights are off in the apartment, and everyone besides Logan and James has gone to bed. The binds are pulled up and allow the moonlight to shine through, painting the room blue and a silverfish-white. It can be seen from the bathroom, open doorway.

The only other source of light in there is from the make-up light over the mirror. Where both Logan and James stand, companionably side by side, brushing their teeth. The only sounds are of the brushes and the dripping of a tap neither of them can be bothered to turn off. The scene is oddly calming and sweet, so James thinks, he looks in the mirror at himself first then Logan.

He looks average, -not something he would admit out loud, in his head he can- hair combed back messy from rooming hands. Logan on the other hand, looks somewhat darling; sunny (despite the night) and warm, even with toothpaste foam wafting about his mouth and the fattest bogie James has ever seen hanging out of his nose**.** When James does point it out he gets an embarrassed and red-faced smile, and a smear of foam to the face for his trouble.

After getting over his initial shock and indignation, it's an 'ah _hell_ no' moment and an all out war.

Logan really doesn't stand a chance.

**.6**

In the Palm Woods park it's cool and sunny. There is a light breeze making the full branches of the trees sway and James' hair messy and windswept. Despite the sun James is wearing a thin moss green utility jacket, and Logan is in his trademark cardigan. They sit on a wrought iron bench, shoulder to knee pressed close together, Logan has an arm flung over the back of the bench hand resting causally on James' shoulder, fingers playing with his jacket collar and neck.

With no reason James lifts his thigh to cover Logan's and takes his free hand and plays with Logan's fingers. A strong gust of wind drags cinnamon and musk to James; he breathes deep and enjoys it. They sit like this for some time, watching people come and go, they see Camille walk by once, arm in arm with some tall dark and handsome actor. She waves, blows an elaborate kiss and winks, the guy by her side grins fondly at the back of her head -eyes sparkling, before smiling briefly at the two.

After this the park seems very large and quiet. Then James doesn't quite know how it happens, but they are on the ground rolling onto the grass, some metre away. When he dares to open his eyes, he sees Logan hovering over him hands and knees braced on either side of him. He hopes Logan can't hear his squeak of surprise.

Before he knows it, Logan his attacking his sides with fervour, tickling him and making him squeal and squeak, in the manliest fashion possible. Of course. Now James is wriggling and thrashing out, trying and failing to make Logan stop, he's not trying very hard at any rate.

The assault is uncompromising and accurate; wherever Logan touches it doesn't fail to make James light up with barely suppressed delight and mock outrage. His cries are breathy and hoarse. It doesn't make much difference. James doesn't want it to.

The question comes unexpected; the words are laboured and heavy with laughter. "So, tell me... have I won yet?"

"...Yes" then comes the quick –just as Logan starts to stop, "Barely." At the gleam in Logan's eyes James wishes he hadn't said anything.

"Oh, it's on."

-Author's Note-

Hope you liked it, because it took me for-bloody-ever. And I'm now tired and want some chocolate. So, now I need to thank the usual suspects and Fossy; for putting up with me and my ranting and her very lovely reassurance(s).


End file.
